AkuZeku Plastic Blue Series
by xxbloodyinsanityxx
Summary: This is an in-progress series and the 1st chapter will be edited and lengthened. Thank you so much for your support so far and enjoy


Zexion tugs his crimson glove tighter over his elegant hand. His delicate hands stretch out to his partner Demyx with such grace, it could put any waltz professional to shame. Demyx refills Luxord's shallow cup as Zexion's kid gloves explore under the cherry oak table. "I'm glad you could accept my invitation…" He whispers maniacally as he fiddles with a sheathed knife from under the tea table.

"Well I couldn't pass up a tea offer!" Luxord exclaims as Zexion's gawky assistance fills his tea cup once more. The oblivious British aristocrat inhales the scent of jasmine honey tea as Zexion's mischievous eye signals alert his London servant. "Whaddya want?" Demyx asks his master and Zexion glares at his dimwitted aide.

Demyx's eyes wander and see the blood streaming down from under the lacquer black piano's lid. "You slipped some tea. I want you to clean it up _nicely_, Demyx." The angered gentleman says in the presence of Luxord. "Ooooh! This tea is splendid!" Luxord says and he takes a scone from Demyx's polished silver plate.

Zexion spots a bloody crushed hand sticking out from the piano lid and he clears his throat suddenly. "Ahem….Demyx. Would you like to play a song for our guest?" Zexion eyes his dumb blonde partner. "But masta I do nots know…" Demyx stops his sentence as he follows Zexion's gaze to the swelling body part sticking out from the piano.

Luxord guffaws at Zexion's kindness and he sips his thirsty lips to the tea cup. "Oh I do love the piano!" The Brit exclaims as Zexion's icy underworld glare watches Demyx take care of the piano.

The piano lid lifts as Demyx's clumsy hands fumble with its immense weight. Inside lie the owners of the house and their butler. The lady of the house's dead glazed eyes glares straight at Demyx. Her ruby red mouth hangs feebly and her limp hand rests on her husband's gravestone chest.

"Please. Help yourself to the plate." The plotting male says and he pushes the platter over the table cloth to the greedy rich man. Luxord happily takes three tea cookies for his small porcelain plate. Zexion tugs at his kid gloves again and gives a signaling glance to Demyx.

In perfect synchronization, Demyx flings his silver serving dish and he knocks the soft spot at the back of Luxord's head. The blonde Brit coughs up powdered sugar bits and Zexion unsheathes his knife and darts it in between Luxord's bulging eyes. Luxord's forehead cracks from the penetrating knife and he slips over the metal serving dish then lands head first into the open piano.

Demyx screams as Luxord's hand tries to grab at the young male's neck. "Zexion!" Demyx screams and another knife darts threw into Luxord's hand. The Brit's body falls limp and lies motionless in the piano. Demyx catches his breath as Zexion tightens his crimson gloves once more. "Zex…ion?" Demyx's small voice asks and Zexion whips his stare over to him. "What?" Zexion demands as he pickpockets Luxord's treasures. "Can I has the last cookie?" The blonde asks and Zexion sighs and gingerly waves Demyx away from him.

"We are 15 minute behind schedule. I can't have your brainless, uneducated body dragging me down if I want to get jobs done. This is coming out of your paycheck." Zexion remarks and his skinny partner scarves down the crumbs from the silver dish. The royal street rat watches Luxord's dead eyes catch his last seconds of his life and he slams the piano lid shut.

Demyx tilts his chin up as he hears Zexion launch threw the glass window like a furious raven. "Wait up, masta!" Demyx shouts out and he kicks off his too small stolen shoes from the original butler. The shiny black shoes clatter against the wall as Demyx stumbles over the fine Persian rugs soaked in blood.

The fresh snow whisks through the dancing blue curtains as Demyx leaps onto the roof's edge. "Where'ta next, masta?" The blonde asks as his coal-stained fingers catch his balance on the snowy roof. The fake aristocrat ignores the colloquial murmurs from his partner in crime as his foggy eyes look down. "…Mmasta?" Demyx squeaks out as he sees what Zexion is looking at.

Hundreds of carriages are tracking over the wet cobble stone road bearing wealthy gentlemen and beautiful women. Their giddy laughs sound through the quiet town as lights gradually light up for the start of England nightlife. Zexion's black satin cape parachutes down as he jumps down to the balcony below him and Demyx meekly slides down to him. "Looks like there be a party, masta… Can we go?" Demyx asks with some eager kid grin plastering on his cherub face.

Zexion grins his ivory teeth as his wild gloves graze over the keys of the organ. "Oh yes, Demyx…We are surely invited." Zexion whispers and he slips off his gloves and slams his black nails on the thick keys of the Gothic instrument. The front double doors burst open and the blaring sound of the polished pipes echo.

The feeble snow crushes beneath the red head's harsh steps as he follows the warmth of oil lanterns. The rickety carriages empty out couple by couple who talk over the pounding chords of the organ.

The meticulously sewn gowns brush over the snowy path as the ladies make their way to the welcoming grand front doors of the mansion. Gentlemen cut in front of the red head as they catch up to their eager wives. The red head's emerald eyes glare at them and he stops his elegant stride to slip his dark blue gloves over his white hands.


End file.
